


Times in Between

by ExTeenageDirtbag



Category: Letterkenny (TV)
Genre: Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Multi, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 14:55:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19443745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExTeenageDirtbag/pseuds/ExTeenageDirtbag
Summary: Stewart centric stand alone shorts. Interpolated moments during the show. Gen and muti pairings. Some will be canon complient, some will not.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Stewart is having a hard time but Katy and Wayne give a helping hand.  
> Personal headcanon that Stewart's parents didn't want kids and he was an accident, his mom has an asshole bf that she cares about more than her own son.   
> Spans seasons 2-3.

_ I'm sorry about the other day... _

_ 7:56a.m. _

* * *

_ I saw you in town today. You looked beautiful as always.  _

_ 4:42p.m. _

* * *

_ Katy?  _

_ 6:12 a.m. _

**Stop texting me Stewart or I'll block ur number**

**11:37a.m.**

_ Ok… _

_ 11:39a.m. _

* * *

  
  


_ Devon is gone.  _

_ 8:20p.m. _

**Where?**

**10:12p.m.**

_ We don't know. He just disappeared.  _

_ 10:12p.m. _

**Sux**

**10:32p.m.**

* * *

  
  


**Stop stealing from the dollar store, Bonnie just got yelled at by Mrs. Gertat b/c of it**

**2:30p.m.**

_ So? She's a bitch anyway.  _

_ 2:44p.m. _

**Seriously? It's Bonnie wth has she ever done to you**

**2:45p.m.**

_ Quite a bit actually! And we did it because she was giving Roald a hard time.  _

_ 2:47p.m. _

**Well cut it out**

**It's immature and you guys could get Bonnie fired.**

**2:54p.m.**

* * *

  
  


_ Katy, can I call you?  _

_ 9:10a.m. _

_ Please, it's important.  _

_ 9:18a.m. _

_ 9:25 a.m. _

_ [Missed call: Stewart] _

**Busy**

**I'll get back to you later**

**9:31a.m.**

_ Ok.. _

_ 9:32a.m. _

_ Nevermind.  _

_ 11:11p.m. _

* * *

  
  


_ I saw you downtown today.  _

_ 1:23p.m. _

* * *

_ There's a party in the city on Saturday, do you want to come with me?  _

_ 10:25p.m. _

* * *

_ Katy have you seen Roald? He won't answer his phone and I haven't seen him in two days.  _

_ 7:33p.m. _

_ Katy would you please answer me?  _

_ 11:43p.m. _

* * *

**_Hey Katy, it's Roald. Can I ask you something?_ **

**_8:01a.m._ **

**Sure**

**8:04a.m.**

**_Wtf going on bt you & Stewart? He's been acting weird af lately_ **

**_8:12a.m_ **

**I guess he's just throwing a tantrum because I told him he was being an asshole and won't acknowledge shitty behavior**

**8:21a.m**

**_Uh huh. Right well you guys need to chill bc it's stressing me out_ **

**_8:33a.m._ **

**Tell him to grow up**

**8:34a.m.**

**_[eye roll emoji] been there done that just text him plz so I can stop having to listen to this sad af playlist on repeat_ **

**_9 8:42a.m._ **

* * *

  
  


_ Are you busy?  _

_ 10:00a.m. _

_ Guess that's a yes. Hope you're enjoying the modeling and city life. Must be fun. _

_ 1:43p.m. _

* * *

_ It's not the same without you around. Are you coming back soon?  _

_ 2:20p.m. _

* * *

  
  


**Why are you guys destroying stuff again? Isn't that a little childish?**

**10:22a.m.**

**Stewart I know it was you guys, Tanis wouldn't do something like this**

**1:21p.m.**

_ Childish?! And what makes you think we wanted to implicate Tanis? We did it because it was fun!  _

_ 1:34p.m. _

**Yeah and now everyone has to pay to have it fixed**

**Really cute dude**

**When are you going to actually do something with your life and stop being a burnout?**

**2:57p.m.**

_ When are you going to stop mooching off your brother and those two rink rats and actually get out of this shithole town?  _

_ 3:02 p.m. _

**Fuck you**

**3:02p.m.**

_ You could have _

_ 3:05p.m. _

_ Mad because I called you out? Unfortunate.  _

_ 3:13p.m. _

* * *

_ I miss you.  _

_ 3:39a.m. _

**Good for you**

**Are you done spamming my phone?**

**4:09a.m.**

* * *

_ Do you remember that time when Nathan Bozia told everyone you were giving him bjs in the school parking lot?  _

_ 4:22a.m.  _

**Yeah**

**he shoved you off the bleachers when you told him to shut up**

**Why?**

**5:03a.m.**

_ I don't remember why I asked.  _

_ 5:04a.m. _

**Are you high right now??**

**5:06a.m.**

_ Yeah…sorry _

_ 5:11a.m. _

**Stewart sort yourself out…**

**6:00a.m.**

_ Im.trying. _

_ 6:13a.m. _

**Well try harder you fucking degenerate**

**6:24a.m.**

* * *

_ I heard you were back in town. Can I see you?  _

_ 8:05a.m. _

**I don't want to see you if you're fucked up**

**8:08a.m.**

_ …. _

_ 8:08a.m. _

_ Ok _

_ Nvm _

_ 8:08a.m. _

_ 8:12a.m. _

_ [ 3 Missed calls: Stewart]  _

_.. Can you pick up I need to talk _

_ 8:19a.m. _

_ Katy please answer. I swear I'll leave you alone  _

_ 8:23a.m. _

_ 8:37a.m. _

_ [Missed call: Stewart]  _

_ 1 New Voicemail _

"I'm sorry.. if you're busy right now…. Can.. I.. I need to talk to someone.. Noone will call me back.." 

~

Girl I'm gonna need you to come get this boy before I whoop his ass

11:21a.m.

**what are you talking about?**

**11:25a.m.**

That skid is in here acting a fucking fool keeps asking about you and speaking fucking gibberish

11:26a.m.

**Sorry Gail, I'll be there in 20 mins**

**11:30a.m.**

* * *

  
  


When Katy walks into MoDean's she sees Gail behind the bar, arms braced on the shiny wood and muttering under her breath. As she makes her way over the older woman places a shot on the bar in front of her then jerks her head in the direction of one of the corner tables while looking particularly pissed off. 

"He's been here for a fuckin' hour talking to himself and raising hell." She says as she pours herself a shot and throws it back in one smooth motion. Katy downs her own shot before giving Gail an apologetic look and glancing in the direction the taller woman had indicated. Even from here she can hear Stewart muttering nonsense to himself as he hunches over the table, scribbling furiously in a notebook. 

The blonde takes a deep breath hand walks over slowly, silently wondering just what she's about to be dealing with. As she approaches she can see he's dressed in jeans and that ratty black t-shirt he used to wear all the time, his hoodie balled up in a mass of fabric on the seat next to him as he rocks back and forth. His long black hair is an absolute mess, covering most of his face from her view and the polish on his nails is chipped and nearly gone on a few fingers. 

She stands next to the table and clears her throat. 

Stewart's head snaps up and she has to bite her tongue to keep from audibly gasping. His eyes are bright and glassy, pupils pinpricks even in the low light of the bar and rimmed with dark shadows which stand out sharply against his pale skin. A smile spreads across his face when he realizes it's her, drawing her eyes down to the busted lip he's sporting before she gestures to the seat across from him. 

"Mind if I sit?" 

The boy shakes his head and straightens in his own seat, pulling the beat up notebook closer as he nearly seems to vibrate with energy. 

There is blood crusted around and under his fingernails, she notices as he clutches the tattered book protectively, sky colored eyes never leaving her face as he studies her. 

"It's wonderful to see you Katy. Blonde looks resplendent on you. How was the city? I saw some of your photos, looks like you're having a marvelous time. " It comes out in a rush and she has to give herself a second to process everything. 

"Yeah, it's pretty decent. What about you?" 

He gives some high pitched chuckle in the back of his throat, smile still firmly in place before looking back down at the paper in front of him, pencil tapping furiously as he stares at it then the table. 

"Just this and that. Keeping myself occupied with a multitude of things."

A beat of silence. Graphite scratching against paper. 

"I met someone. I think you'd like her."

At this, Katy tips her head as her eyebrows draw together in confusion. 

_ He met someone? Not someone from town obviously if I don't already know her.  _

"That's good. Are you guys dating, or..?" She lets the sentence trail off as Stewart pushes some of his hair back, revealing a line of faded bruising around his throat and the bottom of his jaw. 

"I do-" 

"What happened to your neck?" 

His eyes dart around wildly as he leans away from her, shoulders tensed as his mood flip flops, a nasty scowl spreads across his face. "Why do you care?" He asks defensively and for a second she's offended. She knows they haven't got the best history together but Katy would like to think that she hasn't done anything to make him believe she wouldn't genuinely be concerned for his well being. The rational part of her knows he's high as a kite and probably trying to piss her off intentionally or that he's just being willfully stupid but the part of her that is insulted by his clipped tone is the side she lets loose on him. 

"Why would you say that? Of course I care Stewart, I'm not some heartless witch."

"Why did you come here?" 

"To check on you, that was a pretty cryptic voicemail you left me." She says after a moment but the second it leaves her mouth she knows she fucked up. Stewart hadn't told her where he was in that message.

"I'm not an idiot Katy. **_Gail_** told you to come here **_didn't_** **_she_**?!" 

She jumps as his voice rises to a yell while he glares over towards the bar and Gail points her finger at him warningly. 

"She's not my babysitter yo-" Stewart's yelling is cut off as Katy reaches over to slap her hand over his mouth. "Stewart shut the fuck up!" The boy shoves her hand away and flings himself out of his chair, knocking it, his jacket, and notebook over in the process before stomping over to the bar and slamming his hands down on the top to lean over and give the woman behind it a seething glare. 

Not one to be threatened, Gail slaunters over and grabs Stewart by the collar of his shirt so their faces are inches apart. Stewart bares his teeth and pulls back, causing Gail to release him before she gestures towards the door. "Get the fuck out of here you fucking tweaker. I see you in here again I'm gonna fuck you up in a really bad way."

Stewart yells something unintelligible at her as he shoves the door open and walks out. Katy just sighs, picking up the stuff on the floor and righting the chair before following the boy outside. 

He's standing in the middle of the parking lot and staring at his car as she walks up behind him. Out in the daylight he looks even more ragged, clothes faded like they haven't been washed in days and covered in all kinds of dirt and dust, an old pair of vans he's had since high school that look like they're about to fall apart in place of his usual combat boots. More bruises are visible his arms, spots of faded yellow and mottled greenish blue decorating the pale flesh. 

"You've lost weight." She says, watching he digs around in his pockets to look for his car keys, or so she assumes. Like she's going to let him drive anywhere like this, it was a miracle he'd made it there in the first place. He shrugs and makes some noncommittal noise but stands up straighter, as if it's going to do anything to detract from the fact that he's all sharp points and hollow cheeks. 

She places her hand on his arm, feeling the muscles flex and tense beneath her palm. "You don't need to be out right now. I'm taking you hom-" 

"No!" The black haired boy jerks away from her and nearly trips over his own feet. "I can't go home." Normally Katy doesn't put much stock into the things any of the skids say when they're high, but Stewart is always careful about his word choice and phrasing even when he's too far gone to remember his own name, so when he says  _ can't  _ instead of  _ won't  _ it sets off alarm bells in her head. 

"OK. Then you have to come with me so I can keep an eye on you." Her tone is gentle but leaves no room for arguments, and it speaks volumes when Stewart just nods sheepishly before holding his hands out for his stuff as they walk toward her car. 

* * *

To say she hadn't really thought this through would be an understatement but Katy is nothing if not hard headed. She grabs Stewart's hand as they walk to the door of the house; he'd been an absolute ball of energy in the truck, going through anything and everything she had laying around, asking question after question, making game and movie references that were lost on her. She'd endured it silently for the 15 minute drive from MoDean's while she thought about how she was going to pitch this to Wayne. 

_ Just bringing the town meth head to the house so he can sober up! Don't mind us!  _

Yeah that would go over really well. 

As they come around the back Stewart's endless stream of literature references finally halts when he sees Wayne sitting on the back porch, cigarette in one hand and a bottle of Puppers in the other. 

Wayne stares at them as Katy pulls Stewart halfway up the steps, her fingers holding tight to the sleeve of the hoodie he's wearing. 

"Katy, the fuck you got that skid with you for?" 

"Mind your business, shirt tucker!" Stewart snaps before she can even open her mouth. This was not going like she'd planned (not that she'd actually planned anything). 

Wayne stands suddenly, shoulders squared and a frown set firmly in place and Stewart finches violently, falling back and almost pulling Katy down with him before her brother grabs her arm to keep her up right. 

"Wayne leave him alone, Stewart tone it down." The girl says as she tucks a piece of loose hair behind her ear and looks down at Stewart. 

His eyes are locked on her brother and when she sees the expression on his face it makes her body go cold with something she can't quite describe. He looks terrified, like he's waiting for Wayne to reach down and grab him any second. Her mind flashes to the bruises on his neck and arms. 

"Let me get him situated and then I need to talk to you big brother." She says as she offers her hand out for the boy to take. His eyes flicker between her and Wayne for a few seconds before he stands up and gently takes his hand in hers, letting her lead him inside.

* * *

Wayne has never liked Stewart, even when they were just kids and the skid was giving Katy little doodles and notes and asking to hold her hand on the playground. Not when they were older and he was following her around school like a lost puppy, and not after they graduated,(Stewart hadn't even gone to the ceremony, Wayne wasn't sure he'd actually passed at all) his little group doing nothing but hang around town and cause trouble for everyone. 

So it's not really surprising that Wayne doesn't want him in the house(again). But he'd backed off because of the look in his sister's eyes. Something wasn't right. 

She tells him in passing that the little grease ball can't go home before disappearing up the stairs with her dirty shadow close behind. 

So Wayne does the thing that responsible people do. 

He calls Stewart's mother, and he gets his questions answered but the situation is far from what he'd been expecting and it makes him livid as the full scope of it comes into view. 

Katy walks downstairs just as he slams the receiver down and she raises an eyebrow. 

"Be gentle there big shoots, she's old."

Wayne just glances at her before shaking his head and grabbing a beer from the fridge. 

"I gotta make a call. Stewart's in the living room." Katy says before maneuvering around him to walk out the back door. As it slams shut behind her Wayne lets out a steady breath through his nose. Counts to ten. Makes his way to the living room. 

He walks in to find Stewart sitting in his favorite chair, legs pulled up as he watches some monster movie on TV. His hair still wet from a shower no doubt, water dripping off the ends to leave damp patches on the oversized shirt he's got on. It's an old one of his Wayne notices with slight annoyance, even though he can't remember the last time he wore it. It almost swallows Stewart and Wayne frowns in thought. He's only about 2 inches taller than the kid but he forgets how thin Stewart is under all those layers he normally wears. He wants to say it's because of the drugs but Stewart has always been small, tiny, even when they were younger. 

The conversation he'd just had with the kid's mom floats back to the surface of his consciousness and he wonders if the two things are related. 

He hears the back door slam and Katy trecking back through the house, boots scuffing on the hardwood. 

Stewart looks over at him and nods in a much more civil gesture than his previous screeching. 

"Stewart, you suppose I could ask you something?" Wayne says as his sister walks up behind him. The boy in the chair nods and looks up at him with wide blue eyes that look far too innocent on his face. 

"What happened the other day? With Tyndall." 

Stewart's hands immediately go to the patches of discolored skin on his throat and it draws Wayne's attention. 

It only takes a handful of seconds to recognize them for what they are, the ring of bruising the vague size and shape of a hand. From fingers pressing down much too hard for far too long. It's the only explanation Wayne needs but he waits for Stewart to speak anyway. 

"We got into a fight. My mom wants to sell the house and move to the states. I told her I wouldn't let her and he got pissed. Said it was none of my business what she did with it. I told him to fuck himself and it escalated from there."

Katy looks between them and Wayne offers the bottle of puppers in his hand to the boy in the chair. Stewart takes it hesitantly before taking a sip. 

" Your ma. She took his side during the fight?" Wayne asks after a stretch of silence and Stewart scoffs, taking another drink from the bottle in his hand. "She always does. That useless fuckwit, all she does is kiss his ass."

"You're staying here for a while. We'll get some of your stuff tomorrow. I don't want you back there." Wayne says decisively and it sort of shocks Katy, it's a complete 180 from how she thought he'd react to this whole thing but then again Wayne is always surprising her. She sits on the arm of the chair and puts her arm across Stewart's shoulders, she feels him shiver under her touch. 

The black haired boy looks away but there's a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Don't worry about it. They'll be gone in a day or two and I won't have to worry about it."

"Stay here tonight at least?" Katy asks, twirling a piece of dyed black hair between her fingers. 

Stewart is quiet for a long time before he finally nods his head and leans back in the recliner, empty beer bottle forgotten in the floor. Katy smiles and pokes him in the back. 

"Move over, I want you to tell me about this girl." Stewart moves enough for Katy to slide into the chair next to him and Wayne shakes his head before turning and leaving them to gossip. 

He may not like Stewart but family was the most important thing and if Stewart's own mother wouldn't take care of him then Wayne supposed he could make the kid a spot in their little hodge podge group. 


	2. Hugs & Drugs Pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter is rough on the skids sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set around mid season 2  
> Gen, but can be read as Stewart/Roald/Devon

The sound of electronic beeps and crashes play lowly in the background of a darkened basement, occasionally illuminated by the large TV flashing with vibrant and pixelated colors. Two boys sit on the floor, only feet away from the bright screen as they pretend to focus on their game while their friend shuffles around behind them. Devon and Roald side eye each other as the sound of clinking glass echos from the lone coffee table in the room and the two boys try to subtlety watch Stewart out of the corner of their eyes. 

He notices them anyway, because he's a paranoid fuck and they aren't exactly good at being low key even on a good day. The blue eyed boy stares at them from where he's perched on the edge of the couch with a stem and a butane lighter in hand, two long lines of white powder tapped out neatly on the glass top table in front of him. Stewart glares at them before he flicks on the lighter and begins heating one end of the glass stem in his hand. "You two know my policy. If you've got something to say then it's best you share it with the class. Elucidate on your current plight." 

Roald elbows the taller boy in the side as they both sit their controllers down beside the NES; Devon grunts in annoyance but doesn't take his eyes off Stewart as they both watch their leader hot rail the two lines of meth on the table and Roald feels himself getting more antsy. All of them are prolific drug users and abusers but that's the 4th rail Stewart's done today. Normally that wouldn't be too bothersome but he's been clean for nearly a week because of all that fuckery with Katy and they don't know how it's affected Stewart's tolerance. Roald knows there's no way he's come down already from the hit he'd taken earlier that morning. Blowing out a lungful of smoke into the cluttered room and coughing a few times Stewart impatiently waves his hand at them to speak. 

"We are… Concerned. About you. Because of all these shenanigans with..  _ Her."  _ Devon picks his words carefully as he stands and steps a few feet closer to their friend, hands clasped in front of himself contemplatively. Behind him Roald stands up as well, already the shortest one in the room and not wanting to have to crane his neck up to watch each of them as they converse. He creeps up behind Devon and places a gentle hand on the boy's upper arm as he peers around at Stewart. 

It's been a few moments and already he can see the mania creeping onto Stewart's pale face, eyes seeming to widen to an impossible degree as he tosses his stem into one of the many ashtrays littering the surface of the coffee table. The resulting clatter makes Devon's teeth grind together and he closes his eyes for a moment before locking gazes with Stewart. 

Their esteemed leader is standing toe to toe with him now, cobalt eyes staring into his own as he spreads his arms out wide as if offering a hug. "Fear not for I have returned to you fully. I just need to-" 

"Sort yourself out?" Roald squeaks, cutting him off and drawing two sets of piercing blue eyes towards himself. Stewart's eye twitches but he bows his head as if accepting the small boy's interjection. 

"Something to that degree. Now, we need to get back to business, I trust you two didn't try making a batch with the few supplies we had left?" He swipes his hand across his nose and looks between his friends. 

Devon opens his mouth nervously, not wanting to tell Stewart that they had, in fact, made another batch and hand to improvise with a few ingredients. They had run out of cash the day Stewart had started all that bullshit and Connor had unfortunately snorted the last of their previous batch. 

"And if we did?" The tall boy asks, looking Stewart in the eye as if daring him to question the decision that had to be made in his absence. "A full batch?" Roald nods his head before ducking behind Devon. 

He hears the joints in Stewart's fingers pop loudly as he clenches his fist and for a second Roald thinks he's going to punch Devon. "What have I told you? We are trying to sell quality products here, and I will not have you fuck up our reputation by selling bathtub crank!" His voice gets louder and louder as he speaks and Devon steps forward so he's towering over the smaller man. 

Roald stays back at watches, both anxious and aroused. The two of them arguing isn't something he particularly enjoys because he hates conflict between his friends  _ but _ he does find both of them attractive and the sight of Devon using his height to try and assert dominance over Stewart is.. Stirring. Makes him wonder what would happen if Devon finally had enough of Stewart's shit and pinned him to the wall… 

Off topic! 

"Well you weren't here so I had to make an executive decision." The brunette says darkly as he glares down at the smaller boy. Stewart scoffs before pointing to the surface of the cook station they had set up. "Toss it, we're starting from scratch."

Roald whines and lays back on the beanbag chair behind him and Stewart coughs again, pulling his shirt collar up to hide the lower half of his face while ignoring Devon's incredulous look. 

"We need supplies for this you know. Everything is gone."

Dropping his shirt and running a hand through his hair Stewart throws his car keys at the tall boy. 

"Don't worry, we're going to stock up."

* * *

They go into the city to get all their supplies this time around. Sometimes they'll scrounge around Letterkenny for what they need but it's late and most of the small shops are closed, not to mention if the 4 of them parade into a single store in town they'll immediately get turned down. All the shop owners know what they're doing but turn a blind eye if they stay subtle. Mostly because a number of them rely on the Skids to provide each of them their respective poisons. 

So they hit up 3 different pharmacies in the city and rack up $200 worth of supplies, not including the items Stewart and Conner steal from their last stop when Roald has the cashier busy at the counter. It's one of the many perks about 'shopping' at night, the lack of employees to watch all of them. They all scrabble back into Stewart's car and haul ass out of the parking lot to make the 45 minute drive back to Letterkenny. 

Devon is riding shotgun and Roald is in the back with Conner, they'd left the 5th member of their group at the basement after having tasked Darien with cleaning and getting the workstation set up. 

Stewart and Devon pass a pack of cigarettes between them, the spark and click of lighters the only source of noise in the vehicle before Roald reaches between them to turn on the radio. It's tuned to some 'rock' station because the car is too old to have an AUX port but new enough to not have a cassette player for one of those fancy converters, so they normally have to settle for whatever CD happens to be jammed in the player that particular week or the radio. 

Stewart blows smoke in the direction of the window he's got cracked because Roald hates the smell of cigarettes (and he and Devon try to be respectful of that) before he starts pulling everything he'd stolen out of his baggy hoodie. He'd managed to grab 3 bottles of nail polish remover, a 24 pack of Lithium batteries, and two boxes of 200 count matches. Devon tosses everything into a bag he's got between his legs before shoving it under his seat. 

"I think that's everything man." Devon says as he leans back in his seat and ashes his cigarette into an empty bottle sitting between his legs. Stewart nods before pulling out his phone and jamming his cigarette into his mouth, letting it hang there as he glances down at the small device in his hand. 

Roald watches the road anxiously as they turn onto a back road that will take them directly to the basement without having to drive through the middle of town. 

Locking his phone and using the same hand to grab his smoke from between his lips Stewart flips on the brights and glances at the rear view mirror. 

"I've already got the twins wanting some. Told them I'd have it ready by morning." 

Roald scoffs and places an elbow on the back of each of the front seats so he can lean over the center console. He doesn't like the twins because they try to get too handsy with Stewart whenever they come around. And sure, objectively the two girls are cute but they are also lot lizards and not even Stewart or Devon want to mess around with them. STD City. 

Devon makes a similar noise and pulls a joint out of his jacket pocket. "Gross."

"Consistent." Stewart corrects as they pull into the drive and he shuts off the car. The boys all clamber out and begin transferring their spoils to the basement where Darien has their cook station set up and ready to go, before they begin the arduous process that is cooking meth. 

It takes most of the night and into the next morning before they finish, working in shifts to keep on task. Roald ends up crashed in the beanbag chair with Devon leaning back against his shins and they watch a few SpongeBob reruns. The batch has finally finished cooking as the sun starts shining through the small window in the top corner of the room and Stewart turns everything off before leaving the dope to cool so they can package it later. He walks over to Roald and Devon before flopping down on Roald's left side without much fanfare. Devon turns back to look at him after a moment of quiet and frowns when he sees Stewart's glazed eyes and slightly pink cheeks. 

"Alright?" He asks and only receives a grunt in response which grabs Roald's attention. 

"Stert?" 

"Hn?" Stewart isn't even forming sentences at this point and he and Devon spare a glance. The black haired boy leans against the beanbag and lets his forehead rest on Roald's arm just above his elbow, Roald's eyebrows shoot up as he sits up straighter. 

"Stewart? You're fucking hot." And of all things,  _ that _ earns him a half hearted laugh from their leader. "Oh fuck off, I mean you have a fever."

Devon turns to face both of them before reaching over to press his hand against the heated skin of Stewart's cheek. 

"Fuck, he's right."

With what has to be the most world weary sigh Roald's ever heard, Stewart pushes himself up into a semi sitting position to glare at both of them. "I'm fine." 

It makes Devon huff and roll his eyes but Roald can tell he's worried. 

* * *

Stewart feels like hot garbage if he's honest, it's been getting worse over the last few hours and now he feels like he's going to just collapse in on himself, it's probably not a good idea but he considers railing another line to see if it might help. The thought of putting anything else in his body is rather off putting right now though. He mostly wants to lay down somewhere to see if it would help stop the nauseating sensation of everything spinning around him. Also to sleep because fuck if he's not  _ so tired _ . 

He lays his head back down and closes his eyes because goddamned even they hurt, but then someone is prodding at him and pulling at his arm. He whines in the back of his throat and feels tears come to his eyes at the sharp sting it causes. He hears Devon say his name but can't muster the energy to respond.

Then he feels someone pick him up like he's a child and he curls into the warm body pressed against him. Tries to remember the last time someone picked him up like that, his parents certainly never had; there was a distinct lack of physical contact in his household growing up and it had definitely fucked him up. When he'd started hanging around the other two boys it made him feel awkward to be a part of the hugs and casual touches they shared but now he couldn't imagine life without it. Only with Devon and Roald though, hell he didn't even feel comfortable having contact with  _ Katy _ , not that she'd wanted him to….

He inhales the scent of dollar store body wash and sweat because he likes the way Devon smells, something about it calms him. Makes him feel safe. 

He feels himself be deposited on the futon they have shoved into a corner, it smells like B. O. and febreeze and there are suspicious stains all over it but right now he could care less, it's soft-ish and right under the window they have popped open for ventilation so there is a cool breeze blowing over him. 

He rolls onto his side and curls up with a sigh. Lets out a few wet sounding coughs before his raspy breathing evens out and he falls asleep. 

Devon looks over at Roald from his position kneeling next to the futon. "We need to bring his fever down. Can you run to the dollar store and pocket some ibuprofen?" The small boy nods and grabs his coat before running up the stairs and heading out into the chilly morning. 

Devon looks back down at Stewart's flushed face before brushing a few strands of black hair behind his ear and tries to think if he'd even seen the other boy sick before. His mind comes up blank and that bothers him because he likes to know what to expect. Is he someone who stays sick for days and bitches constantly or is he the kind to be ill for 24 hours and then bounce back?

* * *

Roald pockets a bottle of ibuprofen while Bonnie McMurray stares at her phone, ducking down a center aisle to grab a box of protein bars that he shoves into the inner pocket of his hoodie and two bottles of Gatorade that he actually brings up to the counter to pay for. 

He gives Bonnie a small smile out of reflex but lets it drop when she gives him a deadpan expression while rattling off his total of 3 dollars and some change. He pulls the bills out of his wallet and tosses them on the counter, doesn't bother to wait for the change before hauling ass outside. 

As he rounds the corner of the building he can't help but wonder what it would be like to live in a place where everyone didn't hate them on principle. Roald is no stranger to harassment and negativity, but sometimes it can be exhausting having to deal with on a daily basis. It's one of the reasons they'll stay cooped up in the basement for days on end, getting completely tweaked out and just enjoying each other's company. Until they went stir crazy and ended up at each other's throats. 

When he walks around the side of the house he sees Devon outside smoking and looking stressed. He holds up the bag in his hand before sitting on the steps that lead down to the basement door. 

"He's still asleep. Fever is worse." 

Devon finally breaks the silence, putting out his cigarette on the side of the building and turning to open the door. Roald follows him inside, noting Conner and Darian are still MIA. 

Stewart is sprawled out on the futon, breaths coming out in raspy puffs as his chest rises and falls slowly and it does nothing for the pit of worry clawing at Roald's insides. 


	3. Not my Valentime Pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picks up after the V-Day special.  
> Wayne's brotherly instincts earn him a sleepy house guest.  
> Referenced Stewart/Gae

Of course things had been going just too well and Stewart had to say something to fuck it all up. Because that's who he was, just one big fuck up, leading a group of fuckwits into all sorts of tom-fuckery. 

Or maybe Wayne was getting a bit  _ too _ bent out of shape about the fact that he didn't tip? He's not really sure, the guy is so blasè and deadpan most of the time Stewart can't tell when he's being facetious or genuinely fucking upset. 

The uncomfortably silent trip back to MoDean’s lets him know that in this case, Wayne does seem to be legitimately irritated with him; Glen looks between the two of them while rolling his eyes and sipping on his coffee even though Stewart is sure there’s not actually anything left in the cup. Stewart slumps in his seat in the back of Wayne’s truck as he tries not to let Wayne’s sudden displeasure darken his already foul mood. As much as he was lothe to admit it, he had actually been having a good time with the fucking hick. At the very least he hadn’t been drinking alone all day like he’d planned, and it had been nice to have an actual discussion about hockey with someone. Hell, it was nice to have an actual  _ conversation _ with someone other than Roald, Conner, or Darian. (The winter was a hard time of the year for them, business slowed down and the weather was normally too unfavorable most days to do much besides hole up in the basement playing video games. Not that he didn’t enjoy playing video games or spending time with the guys but even with a constant stream of drugs and alcohol he had a habit of getting a little stir crazy from time to time.) 

Not to mention  _ this _ stupid fucking holiday had him wanting to do near about  _ anything _ away from the vecinity of his house. (Of all the fucking times for his mom and dad to come home they’d chosen the worst goddamned day to do so, and Stewart was pretty fucking convinced they’d done it on purpose.) 

Glen is actually the one to break the defining silence in the vehicle after he finally puts his empty cup down and glances at Stewart in the rearview mirror. 

“So after all that, you two just aren’t gonna talk.  _ At all?  _ Nothin’?” 

Wayne continues glaring out the windshield and lets out a breath through his nose. “I don’t talk to people who don’t tip their servers.” He says it with such severity that Stewart can’t help but openly scoff before crossing his own arms, unintentionally mirroring the hick’s position. 

“Why the fuck do you even care? Have you ever even been a server? No.”

Wayne whips around in his seat to glare at him, causing Stewart to squeak and shrink back under the other man’s gaze. 

“Just cus I ain’t done it before doesn't mean I don’t respect the people that do. Why the fuck wouldn’t you tip someone that-”

“That’s doing the job they get  _ paid _ to do?” Stewart interjects sarcastically. He’s got no idea why the other man is so hung up on this; yes it was a shitty thing to do and Stewart knew that but..so what? He  _ was _ a meth dealer so it’s not like he was necessarily worried about the impact he had on other people’s lives. Besides it’s not like giving someone an extra five dollars on the  _ rare _ occasion he went out was going to make a fucking difference.

“Paid a shit fucking wage, yeah. Havin’ to put up with people like you and those other tweakers is deserving of an extra damn fiver or two I’d say.” 

Wayne rights himself in his seat to continue his stoic survey of the empty streets as they drive by. 

“Well I think you both are taking this a bit too far, seems like something ya’ll can agree to disagree on doesn’t it?” Glen chimes in as he pulls a cigarette from his shirt pocket and uses it to gesture to both of them. 

“Can’t agree with someone who doesn’t know how to treat people that do things for them, job or not, says a lot about a man’s character. Mannerless little bastard.” He mutters the last part under his breath as he lights his own cigarette and cracks the window.

“Oh get the fuck off your high horse, just because you have money to throw around doesn’t mean all of us do.” That has Wayne turning back around in his seat and for a second Stewart thinks he’s about to get a lit cigarette thrown at him before the man points to him with two fingers. “I think that’s some fresh shit coming from the one who spent two thousand dollars for that stupid rave at the Ag Hall.” And that has the skid’s face turning red because it’s an event that had landed a serious blow to both his wallet and his self-esteem, one he’d definitely rather not be reminded about. He suppresses the impulse to kick Wayne’s seat because he’s 110% that would earn an immediate ass kicking but he does lean forward to snarl in his face. “That was a one off, I do actually have bills to pay.”

“Oh do you now? Your parents askin’ for some rent money for that meth lab basement?” The sarcasm is dripping from Wayne’s voice and it’s absolutely infuriating. 

Stewart debates on telling him just how he’s barely scraping by with parents who are always fucking off to the city and the states, leaving the care of the house to Stewart and his friends, including bills and the morgage payments because they just couldn’t be bothered to remember any of it. Hell, he couldn't even remember the last time either of them had remembered _his_ _birthday_. 

They pull into the parking lot at MoDean’s and Stewart all but scrambles out of the truck to get away from the two men and he walks up to the door, hands in his pockets and arms pressed close to his sides as the freezing wind blows around him. He hears Glen laugh as he walks behind him, “Nope, nope time to go somewhere else Stewart, it’s 5 o’clock. MoDean’s is officially closed for the day.”

Stewart gives a high pitched snarl and looks between Glen and the door with a look of exasperation before pulling out his phone to see that Roald  _ still _ hadn't responded to the message Stewart sent him nearly an hour and a half ago. "Seriously? Just what have you got to do that's so important?" 

He knows he probably shouldn't be snapping at Glen but he can't help it, he's in a bad mood, it's cold, and he's still tipsy. 

Glen gives him a look over the top of his glasses before winking," Oh you know,  _ this _ and  _ that _ ." He shakes his hips a little to accentuate his point before turning on his heel and fucking  _ sashaying  _ over to his bike. The goth boy growls low in his throat and kicks the metal door frame harshly before walking past Wayne's truck and off down the street. 

He's not really sure how this day can get any worse but he knows it will because that's just how terrible his luck is these days. It seemed like it was just one thing after another, losing business with Tanis, and losing  _ Devon,  _ all that shit with Katy,...  _ Gae.  _

Just the thought of her makes his heart twist painfully and he debates on trying to call her. He'd tried yesterday but it had gone straight to voicemail, she hadn't answered any of his texts in nearly a week. 

_ She got bored and moved on already _

His brain supplies helpfully and he tries to ignore how much it bothers him, because it might be the truth. After all, she'd only lived there for a week, and they'd gotten along splendidly but even though she'd said she wanted to keep in contact with him there was still that part of him that was telling him it was just a means to an end. They had been her ticket back to the city and nothing more. That same part of himself couldn't even blame her either, hell, what did he have to offer her? Boring life in a town 45 minutes from the city? Drugs? 

Drugs! 

Digging around in his pocket, cold fingers brush over a small pill and his eyebrows crease, it was too small to be Valium and too round to be Xanax. 

Pulling the small pill from his pocket and holding it up he examines the small blue and white capsule and racks his brain to remember what it is. Definitely a stimulant of some sort. 

"Juussst a little pick me uppp." He says to himself as he pops the pill in his mouth, swallowing it dry. He supposes if he does get stuck back at the house later tonight then maybe this will give him the kick in the ass he needs to actually clean up the basement. Maybe paint. Or they can binge watch horror movies. 

He's so lost in thought that he doesn't hear Wayne walk up behind him and when the brunette puts a hand on his shoulder his first instinct is to turn and punch him. Wayne dodges his fist and Stewart immediately retracts his arm and backs away from the brunette. 

"The fuck are you doin'?" 

"What the fuck are you doing?" 

They speak at the same time and Stewart frowns, trying to figure out what the damn hick is talking about. Wayne must be reading the look on his face because he clarifies, "Where the fuck you walkin' to, it's fuckin' - 2°C out."

"To the church. Roald has my car and I'm not about to wait around for him to get done with that infantile dating game." He says stiffly and eyes Wayne when he rolls his eyes. 

"Get in the fuckin' truck you nut sac." Wayne says as he gestures to the truck behind him and starts making his way back to the drivers side. Stewart stands there for a few seconds while his brain tries to sort out what's going on before he walks over and jumps in the passenger side. 

Wayne has the heat on and the warmth makes Stewart want to purr but he restrains himself, sliding down in the seat and relaxing ever so slightly. He glances at Wayne out of the corner of his eye, unsure whether or not he should try to start a conversation with the guy who's giving him a ride after his little… faux pas earlier. The silence between them is extremely awkward even for Stewart, who basically lives in a constant state of awkward. 

The older man is staring determinedly out the windshield in what is clearly a pointed effort to not glare at the boy in the passenger seat of his truck. He's got one arm propped on the door next to him, lit cigarette hanging loosely in his fingers while the other hand is clenched tightly around the steering wheel. The black haired boy turns his eyes away and pulls his phone from his pocket, swiping over Roald's text messages to hit the small phone icon next to his name. 

Roald doesn't answer. 

Stewart sends him another text, fingers tapping angrily at the glass screen. 

_ On my way to get you. Answer your damn phone.  _

_ 5:25p.m. _

He locks his phone and drops it onto his lap before leaning farther back in his seat and closing his eyes. He doesn't plan to fall asleep but he does. Pretty fucking hard apparently because what feels like minutes later someone is shaking him and he hears Katy's voice above him but he's too tired to open his eyes. 

"He's out cold Wayne. Just take him inside and toss him on the couch."

_ Huh?  _

Wayne scoffs somewhere to his right and he feels the truck shake as a door is closed. "I'm not carrying that fucking skid inside like some overgrown baby. He can either wake up or sleep in the truck, fuck I don't care."

"Big brother." Katy says sternly and Stewart tries to make himself get up, he really does, and but he feels like he hasn't slept in weeks, his body not wanting to respond to what he's telling it. Somewhere in the back of his mind he's pretty sure it's got something to do with the drugs he took earlier but as soon as the idea comes it immediately disintegrates into the rest of his addled thoughts.

He hears Wayne grunt, suddenly sounding much closer and Katy laughs lightly. "Thanks bro."

"Yeah alright, just get the front door will you?" 

Stewart feels Wayne pull him into a sitting position before sliding an arm across his back and under his knees, pulling him out of the truck and against his chest in one fluid motion. Any other time Stewart would be screaming bloody murder about being carried around like a girl, but his brain isn't quite processing things like it should. All he knows is that Wayne is warm and this means he can go back to sleep. 

They don't even make it inside before he's unconscious again. 


End file.
